A Toast to Life
by singsongsung
Summary: No. 20. Rory/Logan.


**A Toast to Life**

**A/N: **Okay, time for a little clarification. **Tolstoy** takes place directly before **Snowflake Eyelashes**. As in, about two days before. I'm sorry for leaving you with a cliffhanger...it wasn't meant to be one! If you reread **Snowflake **you'll be able to tell exactly who the last person who spoke in that story was. Hope that clarifies stuff for you.

And here is it, the awaited explanation of **Wallow**. This takes place right before, one again, about a couple days before. I've written it over about eight times and I'm _still_ not totally satisfied. But I finally got over twenty reviews on a single fic (wahoo! thank you!) so I figure you guys deserve an explanation to all that random angst. There will be more stories coming your way soon enough. The more you review, the more I write. Awesome little cycle we've got going. So here you go. Let me know what you think. Read on!

Rory closed the front door behind her and turned around slowly. She was shaking. Something was wrong.

Lucas bounded into the TV room. "Wait, Lukey!" Rory called after him, her voice strained and weak. "Do you have any homework?" The prep school he was attending was very structured; even though Lucas was only five, he often had homework.

"No!" he replied.

The nanny walked down the steps quickly and quietly, smiling pleasantly. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Huntzberger. Welcome home."

"Good afternoon to you, too, Jana. How's Lory?"

"Sound asleep. She was very good today."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it. Do you know where Mr. Huntzberger is? I mean, did he call and leave a message? I can't seem to get a hold of him at work."

Jana wrinkled her nose in confusion. "Why, Mrs. Huntzberger, he's here at home. In his study, I believe."

"Thank you, Jana. Lucas is in the TV room; could you bring him a snack?"

"Certainly."

Rory walked briskly through the large rooms of their house, stopping briefly to plant a kiss on Lucas' cheek. When she arrived a large wooden door, she tapped on it gently before opening it. "Logan?"

"Ace! Come on in! Have a _drink_."

Her shocked, pained eyes took in his appearance. Messy hair, bloodshot eyes, tousled clothes, vodka in hand. She hastily closed the door behind her. "Logan, what…"

He sloppily poured a glass of vodka and pushed it into her hands. "Cheers!" he cried drunkenly.

She sat down slowly. Her hands were still shaking, and her drink spilled over the rim and onto her skirt. "To what?" she asked.

"_Life_!"

He almost sounded like Finn in that moment, and Rory was almost tempted to laugh. But a bigger part of her was worried and confused. "What's so great about life?" she asked calmly.

"It's so _fucked up_." He reached out to pour himself another glass.

"Logan, what are you doing?" She wasn't shaking as much, calming down. One of them had to be rational, after all, and she was the obvious choice.

"Toasting life." Even when he was drunk, he could imitate the _duh!_ tone she used with him sometimes perfectly.

"You've had enough to drink," she said quietly, reaching for the vodka with a steady hand.

"No, I haven't," he slurred, pushing her hand away firmly.

Tears of agonized confusion burned in her eyes, but she refused to let them seep out. "Yes, you have. The kids are home."

"And then Luke would be ashamed of me, wouldn't he? Yeah."

"Logan, no- he's five years old. What are you talking about?"

He looked at her blearily, as though he was noticing her presence for the first time. "You're beautiful, you know?" he asked, running his fingers along the contours of her face. She closed her eyes. "Sometimes I wonder why you married me, Rory."

Her eyes flew open. "I love you."

He kissed her heavily, sloppily. He was leaning over her, and she squirmed underneath him. He unbuttoned her blouse with practiced- if not slightly fumbling- fingers. She fidgeted more; somehow, it made her feel almost violated.

"Logan, stop," she murmured. "Logan, no. _Stop_ it." She pushed his chest firmly, sending them both out of her chair.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" he demanded, advancing toward her. She backed up until she hit the wall, her teary eyes searching his face. "You shouldn't have married me! You should have married someone good for you!"

"You _are_ good for me!" she insisted. "I'm in love with you!" She decided to ignore the present circumstances when making both of those statements.

"I can't be good for you! You can't be in love with me! We have two kids, and you know what happens now? I cheat on you! I abandon those kids; force them into things they don't want, because I don't _know_ them! And then what happens when I die? Why would you miss me, Rory?" He slammed his fist into the wall, stalked back to his desk, and downed the rest of the vodka. "Why would you miss me?" he muttered.

Rory eased herself away from the way cautiously. "Logan…?"

He sank down to the floor by his desk, his head in his hands. She sat down next to him, placing gentle hands on his tense shoulders. "Babe?"

He looked at her through tired, red eyes. "My father's dead."

(Part Two)

"Hey, sweets! What's cracking?"

Lorelai sounded so chipper and cheerful. The house was so silent that her voice, traveling over the phone, seemed even louder. "Hey, Mom," Rory replied.

"What's wrong?" Lorelai asked immediately. "Are you sick? You sound exhausted."

"Mom…" she was so tempted to throw something, to scream, to cry. "Can you come here?"

When Lorelai replied, her words were gentle and filled with love, "I'll be there tomorrow at noon."

"Thanks," Rory murmured before handing up. She put her head in her hands.

"Mommy?" Lucas stood next to her, big blue eyes puzzled and concerned.

"Hey, baby. Come here." She pulled him onto her lap.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

"Listen, Lukey…" Rory took a deep breath. "Your grandfather died, honey."

Lucas' eyes grew wide and his chin trembled.

"Not Luke!" Rory cried, pulling her son closer to her. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Daddy's daddy?"

"Yeah, Grandpa Mitchum."

"Oh." He stayed quiet.

"Daddy's a little sad." Rory swallowed thickly. "Mom's going to come tomorrow and stay with us for a few days. I need to think about some grown-up stuff."

"Okay," Lucas said faintly.

"Are you okay, Lukey?"

He nodded. "Will you tuck me in again?"

"Of course." She followed him up the stairs and tucked him back into bed.

She then walked slowly into her own bedroom. Not bothering to change out of her skirt and blouse, she crawled into bed next to Logan.

He was still awake. He reached out to pull her to him.

"Hi," she whispered. "How are you?"

"Mm," he murmured noncommittally, eyes still closed.

She bit her lower lip. She was worried about him. She'd never seen him like…this…before.

Lory started to cry, her sobs traveling through the walls. Rory sighed and eased herself out of Logan's grasp.

She took Lory out of her crib and sat down in her rocking chair. She watched minutes, and then hours pass. At some point past 7:57 a.m., she fell asleep.

"Rory…Rory!"

"Logan?" she asked sleepily. Her arms ached. She was still holding a sleeping Lory. Rory stood up, put her daughter into her crib, and stretched her arms. "Hey," she said softly to her husband. She reached out to him, but her batted her hands away as if they were pesky flies.

"Your mother's here. What is your mother doing here?"

"I called her."

"Why?"

"I though it would…she would be helpful."

"Helpful?" he scoffed. "Are you kidding me? The last thing I need right now is your mother."

"Hey!"

"What, truth hurts? Go downstairs and tell her to leave."

"_Logan_!" Rory gaped at him. "We need her here, to help out. I thought she could take care of Luke and Lory while we're at the funeral…"

"We have a nanny for that! Besides, you're not going to the funeral."

"What?"

"Everyone knows that you hated him. It wouldn't be appropriate."

"Logan, I didn't-"

"Don't _lie _about it now!" His brown eyes, eyes that she normally adored, were full of anger.

She shook her head sadly. "I don't have to take this. You have every right to be upset, but you have no right to take it out on me."

"Why don't you just go back to Stars fucking Hollow?" he asked, half-yelling.

Tears filled her angelic blue eyes. "Maybe I will," she said softly, turning and running down the stairs.

"Honey?" asked a familiar voice.

"Mom!" Rory cried, throwing herself into Lorelai's hug. She was devastated in the most intense of ways. For the first time since she'd heard about Mitchum's death the previous day, she allowed herself to cry. She had given Logan her heart, and every other part of her, and now she was hopelessly lost.


End file.
